Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

SIR TOBY. How is't with you, man?

MALVOLIO. Go off; I discard you. Let me enjoy my private; go off.

MARIA. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! Did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

MALVOLIO. Ah, ha! does she so?

SIR TOBY. Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him.
Let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? How is't with you? What, man,
defy the devil; consider, he's an enemy to mankind.

MALVOLIO. Do you know what you say?

MARIA. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at
heart! Pray God he be not bewitched.

FABIAN. Carry his water to th' wise woman.

MARIA. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

MALVOLIO. How now, mistress!

MARIA. O Lord!

SIR TOBY. Prithee hold thy peace; this is not the way. Do you not
see you move him? Let me alone with him.

FABIAN. No way but gentleness- gently, gently. The fiend is rough,
and will not be roughly us'd.

SIR TOBY. Why, how now, my bawcock!
How dost thou, chuck?

MALVOLIO. Sir!

SIR TOBY. Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man, 'tis not for gravity
to play at cherrypit with Satan. Hang him, foul collier!

MARIA. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

MALVOLIO. My prayers, minx!

MARIA. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

MALVOLIO. Go, hang yourselves all! You are idle shallow things;
I am not of your element; you shall know more hereafter.

Exit

SIR TOBY. Is't possible?

FABIAN. If this were play'd upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

SIR TOBY. His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.

MARIA. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.

FABIAN. Why, we shall make him mad indeed.

MARIA. The house will be the quieter.

SIR TOBY. Come, we'll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece
is already in the belief that he's mad. We may carry it thus, for
our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of
breath, prompt us to have mercy on him; at which time we will
bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of
madmen. But see, but see.

Enter SIR ANDREW

FABIAN. More matter for a May morning.

AGUECHEEK. Here's the challenge; read it. I warrant there's vinegar and pepper in't.

FABIAN. Is't so saucy?

AGUECHEEK. Ay, is't, I warrant him; do but read.

SIR TOBY. Give me. [Reads] 'Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.'

FABIAN. Good and valiant.

SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why
I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for't.'

FABIAN. A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.

SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'Thou com'st to the Lady Olivia, and in my sight
she uses thee kindly; but thou liest in thy throat; that is not
the matter I challenge thee for.'

FABIAN. Very brief, and to exceeding good sense- less.

SIR TOBY. [Reads] 'I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me'-

FABIAN. Good.

SIR TOBY. 'Thou kill'st me like a rogue and a villain.'